Unsung Songs 



BY O. W. COXEN 



Copyright, 1907, 
By Omar W. Coxen, Elwood, Ind 

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N presenting these, The Unsung Songs of "an unknown singer 
singing in obscurity." I have no excuses to make further 
than to say that they do not represent years of reading 
and research, nor the "burning of mid-night oik'' but are, 
with few exceptions, the thoughts that have come to me while 
engaged in my daily occupation — that of city letter carrier — and 
written down at my leisure. 

They were written, primarily, with the hope that they might 
be sold as popular songs; but it seems, I was unable to inject 
enough nonsense into them to please the fancy of the popular 
music publishers and too much for those who are on classics bent. 
I therefore give them to the public in this form and hope 
that the reader may find some enjoyment in their perusal. 

THE AUTHOR. 






MY LITTLE BOY BLUE. 



My little boy blue, when evening comes 

Will climib upon my knee, 
With many a kiss and kind caress, 

With many a shout of glee. 
So then I toddle him up and down 

Till at last he goes to rest — 
He's off on a trip to shut-eye-town — 

With his head upon my breast. 



While little boy blue is lying there 

I gaze down in his eyes; 
And thoughts will come of a far off day 

With fair autumnal skies; 
When little boy blue, has no golden hair, 

And has laid all his toys away, 
Shall be a man, with worldly care, 

While his dad is old and gray. 



CHASING A BUTTERFLY. 

A golden haired boy on a bright summer's morn 

Was chasing a butterfly. 
It's little he knows of the troubles and woes 

That will come to his life by and by; 
With no burdens to bear, he is free from all care, 

While chasing his butterfly. 

Refrain: — 

Chasing a butterfly. 

Just you and I, 
In age or in youth, 

I'll tell you the truth 
We're chasing a butterfly. 

The golden haired boy when he giows to a man 

Still chases a butterfly, 
When he calls on his love swears by angels above 

That she'll be his wife by and by 
But he'll fall in a snare if he doesn't beware 

While chasing a butterfly. 



Will little boy blue, when that day comes, 

Forget the times he's had, 
When he was just a little tyke 

A-riding the knees of dad? 
Although I know this may be true, 

The thought don't make me sad, 
For perhaps some day a little boy blue 

Will call me his gran'dad. 



-Refrain. 



The golden haired boy when he's aged and gray 

Still chases a butterfly, 
And to him it seems his childhood dreams 

Will surely come true by and toy. 
But on that last morn at the sound of the horn 

He's chasing <a buterfly. 



-Refrain.- 









►♦ 



THAT 8WEET, SWEET LONG AGO. 



DREAMING OF THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 



At evening by my own fireside, 

When the embers smoulder low, 
I sit and think of other days 

And friends I used to know; 
Though other friends may cheer me now 

And their hearts are true I know, 
I never will forget the friends, 

Of that sweet, sweet long ago. 



When the evening shadows gather, 

When I'm sitting all alone, 
To me, there come fond mem'ries 

Of a fair, bright day that's flown; 
And in fancy then are painted 

Pictures of a radiant glow — • 
All my troubles are forgotten 

In those dreams of "long ago." 



Chorus: — 

Oh! that sweet, sweet long ago, 

For me still has a charm, 
There is a spot, within my heart, 

That yet burns bright and warm, 
When, from that far off "summer land" 

Come voices, soft and low, 
That whisper of the good old times, 

Of that sweet, sweet long ago. 



Chorus: — 

In the seeming, of my dreaming, 

I can see that old homestead. 
Where I spent the days of childhood, 

Though since then long years have fled. 
In the gloaming, oft I'm roaming, 

Mid those scenes so fair and bright. 
Where that dear old mother's waiting 

For her wandering boy tonight. 



When the shades of night have fallen 

Over valley and o'er plain, 
There comes a sweet sad feeling, 

That will soothe miy heart and brain; 
And while I'm gazing in the fire, 

My head at last bends low, 
In dreams I live again those days, 

Of that sweet, sweet long ago. 



I hear again the robins sing 

Dawn among the old oak trees; 
The Bob White's cheery call is borne 

To me upon the breeze; 
I can see the dear old orchard, 

'Mong the fields of ripened grain, 
And my heart is filled with longings 

For that dear old home again. 



-Chorus.- 



-Chorus.- 



♦— 



—♦ 



♦- 



AN OLD-FASHIONED KISS. 



The doctors now days tell us 

That there's microbes in the air, 
That these death-dealing devils 

Are round us every where. 
Now while their the'ry may be true, 

I have my doubts of this 
When they tell me that there's microbes 

In a good, old-fashioned kiss. 

Did you ever "exchange microbes" 

With the sweetest girl you know 
While sitting in the parlor with 

The Hght turned way down low? 
If you didn't I can tell you 

You have missed a lot of fun, 
So if you'll listen to me 

I will tell you how it's done. 

First you sit down on the sofa 

And you squeeze her little hand, 
Then you put your arm around her 

Firm as any iron band; 
Then you draw her up close to you, 

So there'll be no chance for slips, 
Place her head upon your shoulder 

With her upturned ruby lips — 

Then with anticipation 

Into her eyes look down; 
(The color doesn't miatter, if 

They're blue or gray or brown.) 



Way down in their depths you'll see 

A glimpse of paradise 
And you vow you won't change place;; 

With an angel in the skies. 

Now don't be in a hurry, 

For haste may spoil the game, 
But when she looks up at you 

And her cheeks are all aflame; 
Then with a gentle movement 

Raise up her dainty chin, 
So when you're good and ready 

All you've got to do's wade in. 

Now don't pounce down upon her 

Like a mink a-sucking blood,' 
But, light as gently on her lips 

As a bee upon a bud, 
And when you've drawn the microbes 

From within their fairy don, 
Just take the time to draw your breath 

And then wade in again. 

Now what the doctors tell us 

May every word be true, 
But when I have a case like this 

I don't fee! scared. — do you? 
Why if ten thousand microbes 

Were in her every breath 
I'd never ask the Lord above 

To send me sweeter death. 






BENEATH THE OLD BEECH. 

Say, Jack, do you remember now 

When you and I were boys, 
We thought we had some troubles then. 

But now they seem like joys, 
Of all the happy times I've had 

None seem so sweet to me 
As those I passed with you, my chum, 

Beneath" that old beech tree. 



Chorus 



That, old beech tree beneath whose shade 

When we were boys we often laid 
And gazing through its brandies high, 

We watched the clouds go floating by; 
On summer days so bright and fair, 

We buildcd castles in the air 
And talked of what we'd do when men, — 

I wish those days could come again. 



You said you'd be a soldier bold 

.And would great battles win; 
While I would preach the gospel true 

And sa^e the world from sin; 
But in life's fieicest battles now 

Don't you often long to be 
A barefoot boy a-lying there 

Beneath that old beech tree? 



-Chorus.- 



— * 



Though I'm often disappointed when 

My efforts meet defeat, 
I have this consolation 

And to me it's very sweet — • 
For through that mystic glamour now 

That veils the past from me, 
I think I see two little boys 

Beneath that old beech tree. 



-Chorus- 



ON THE DEATH OF A SISTER'S CHILD. 



Hark! the bells are tolling mournfully; 
The dial hand has run its race, 
She is gene — yes, gone forever; 

Short was life to our darling Grace. 

Ruthlessly the King or Terrors 
Breaks the flow'ret in its bloom. 

Yesterday we heard her prattle, 
Now she sleeps within the tomlb. 

Clad in innocents' swanlike garments, 
Ice cold in the grave she lies. 
And we pray to God in heaven 
We shall meet in Paradise. 

Then fare you well, sweet Gracie darling, 
May you ever slumlber sweet; 

Sleep on calmly in your prison, 
Sleep on till again we meet. 



-♦ 



THINKING OF THE PAST. 

"Jever" sit out in the kitchen 

When yer daily toil was done, 
And all the folks had gone to bed 

And left you there alone, 
When everything was quiet 

But the clock upon the shelf 
With its everlastin' tickin' 

Like 'twas lalkin' to itself? 

Now while yer sittin' out there 

Why just as like as not 
Thoughts come to you of far off days 

And friends almost forgot. 
Then you'll wander througn the woodlands 

Where you'll hear the drone of bees 
And the music of the little birds; 

A singin' 'niong the trees. 

Now while you sit there thinkin' 

Don't it sometimes to you seem 
That you are nothin' but a leaf 

A float in' down life's stream, 
Which way up near its fountain head 

Makes music with its flow, 
But when the valley broadens 

The goin's mighty slow? 



But when you near the harbor 

Where life's voyage is to end, 
You'll wish sometimes you could go back 

And make the trip again. 
But as it is, by God decreed, 

You can go back no more. 
He'll let you when the evening comes 

Dream 'bout the days of yore. 

So next time that you sit alone, 

Just look back up the stream. 
You'll see some pleasant places — 

And the sun will cast a gleam 
Of gorgeous golden radiance 

Around that little cot, 
Where you passed the days of childhood, 

Which can never be forgot. 

So we should try to make the best 

Of the journey as we go: 
And not to fret or worry, 

But float along as slow, 
So we can see the beauties 

Presented to our view, 
Before we reach that harbor 

Which we all are going to. 



♦ 



♦ 






1 — 



A FOND RECOLLECTION. 

I will sing to you a little song 

Yoa never heard before, 
'Tis not about an old arm chair, 

Nor the shawl your mother wore; 
'Tis not about the pictures 

That are hanging on the wall, 
But the fondest recolection 

That mem'ry can recall. 

It takes me back to other days. 

To the place where I was born; 
The house stands way back from the road 

'Mong fields of waving corn; 
I see mother in the kitchen — 

Smell the sav'ry odors rise — 
She's sifting and she's stewing 

Yes, she's baking "punkin" pies. 

I've read 'bout all the poets — 

Yes, from Riley back to Burns — 
They've written many pretty things 

For which the heart oft yearns. 
Eut it seem so very strange to me, 

Yes, fills me with surprise, 
That none have sung the praises 

Of their mother's "punkin" pies. 

In my travels o'er this country, 

(Man must dine where'er he goes) 

I have eaten "with the wild red men- 
Feasted at Delmonico's 

Whore they served me dainty dishes 
That I very dearly prize, 

But not one could hold a candle 
To my mother's "punkin" pies. 



I have been married long, long years; 

My wife can stew and bake. 
She often serves me "punkin" pies — 

Not like mother used to make. 
Oh, I feel so sad and lonely, 

And the tears come to my eyes, 
For life don't seem worth living 

Without mother's "punkin" pies. 

So when 1 leave this earthly scene 

And I reach that golden shore. 
Where the wicked cease from troubling 

And the chilling storms are o'er; 
Then when I meet my mother 

In those mansions in the skies, 
The first thing that I'll ask her, 

Have you any "punkin" pies? 

So now miy song is ended, 

And your pardon I implore, 
If I've caused you pain and anguish, 

'Bout those happy days of yore. 
Some one may say 'tis sacrilege 

And my verses criticise 
But he surely ne'er was hungry 

For his mother's "punkin" pies. 



THE INDIAN MAID. 

She had never seen them on the warpath 
From the wigwam she had never strayed 

She had never seen them do the ghost dance 
Poor little Indian miaid. 



— ♦ 



♦- 



MY DARLING JOE. 



MY OKLAHOMA HOME. 



I am sitting by the shore, 
When the day is almost o'er, 
Where I've sat so oft before 

With my Joe. 
When the sun's last fading beam 
Sends across the waves a gleam 
I can see as in a dream 

The face of Joe. 

Chorus: — 

Blow, breezes blow, blow so soft and low 
And bring again my love to me; 
From far across the rolling sea 
Then I'll be happy as can be 
With my darling Joe. 

It was on a summer's day, 

When the world was bright and gay, 

That my dear one went away, 

Darling Joe. 
But I'm waiting here for you 
With a heart that's warm and true — 
With some hugs and kisses too, 

My dear old Joe. 



-Chorus.- 



The sun shines bright in my Oklahoma home, 

Where the flowers are blooming so gay; 
Where the cornfields wave in the balmy summer 
breeze, 

And the birds are singing all the day. 
Thorp my mother dear is sitting by the door 

And tonight I know she will pray 
That I soon will return to that "beautiful land", 

To my Oklahoma home far aiway. 

Refrain: — 

Weep no more dear mother, 

So weep no more I say, 
For I soon will return to my Oklahoma home, 
To my Oklahoma home far away. 

There I used to roam 'neath the sunny skies of 
June, 

Over hill over valley and plain. 
There I used to fing by the light of the moon 

With a heart that was free from all pain. 
The day soon'll come when the shadow o'er my 
heart 

Will forever pass away 
When I sit once more with my mother in the door. 

Of mjy Oklahoma home far away. 

Refrain. 



PLAYMATES. 



There are old familiar faces '. , 

Of playmates I have known, 
That will often rise before me, 

Though long, long years have flown. 
I. in fancy, now can see them, 

Just as in those days of yore, 
When wo were happy children 

Playing round the schoolhouse door. 

Chorus: — 

There's Jack and Jim aner Harry, 
Irene, Marie and Carrie, 

And browneyed Bess, the sweetest girl of all. 
Tho^e is golden-haired Louise 
Who was such an awful tease — 

What a .flood of recollections they recall. 



That little, old red school house 

That stood beside the wood, 
I never can forget it, 

And would not if I could. 
For when I'm sad and lonely 

And my heart is feeling sore. 
Tliei^e friends will come to cheer me, 

Just as in those days of yore. 



-Chorus- 



THE KEEPSAKE. 

In a little casket, 

Fragrant with perfume, 
Lies a little keepsake, 

Just a rose's bloom, 
But it brings to mem'ry, 

Many haippy hours, 
That iwere passed with Nellie 

Wandering 'mong the flowers. 

Just a little keepsake 

Of a maiden fair, 
Who had eyes of azure, 

Who had golden hair, 
Who had often told me 

That she loved me, too, 
And that to me she would 

Evermore be true. 

Just a precious treasure 

Of a happy past: 
I'd hoped that those days 

Would forever last. 
But one day we quarrelled 

Then the dream was o'er. 
Nellie's with angels now 

On that golden shore. 






THE KISS MY MOTHER GAVE ME ERE 
SHE DIED. 



There are many recollections 

That will often come to me 
When I'm sitting all alone at eventide, 

But the sweetest one of all, 

That my mem'ry can recall, 
Is the kiss my mother gave me ere she died. 



Chorus: — 

The kiss my mother gave me ere she died 

Will forever in my memory abide, 

'Till I reach that golden shore 

There to dwell forever more 

With my dear old darling mother side by side. 



MY PLAYMATE OF CHILDHOOD. 



We've been playmates together, 

In fair and stormy weather. 
And now you're going far across the sea; 

But I want to know 

Before you have to go, 
Will you promise to be always true to me? 

Chorus: — 

Yes, I will be true, 

My sweetheart to you 
Where'er on this earth I may roam; 

And ne'er will I forget 

Until life's sun has set, 
The playmate of my childhood's home. 



That was many years ago, 

I was just a little child. 
When my darling mother called me to her side. 

Ling'ring in my mem'ry still 

Is that sweet and soulful thrill 
Of the kiss my mother gave me ere she died. 



-Chorus- 



Though the parting will grieve me, 

I know you'll not deceive me, 
And to you I wish God speed on your way; 

Oh. what comfort they'll be, 

These words you've said to me, 
While I'm waiting for your coining home some day. 

Chorus 









THE SONGS OF OTHER DAYS. 

I have heard many songs of soldier .boys, 

I have heard many songs of love, 
I have heard many songs of mothers dear 

Who have gone to that home above. 
I have heard many songs of Fatherland, 

I have heard many gongs of praise, 
But the songs for me, that touch my heart, 

Are the songs of other days. 

Chorus: — 

I long to hear "Love's old sweet song" 

And "M> Darling Nellie Gray." 
"My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night," 

"Uncle Ned," and "Old Dog Tray," ' 
"Old Massa's in the Cold, Cold Ground," 

"There Will Be One Vacant Chair," 
"Lead Kindly Light" and "Home Sweet Home," 

"Lilly Dale" and "The Maiden's Prayer." 

I have heard many songs of childhood's hours, 

I have heard many songs of glee, 
I have heard many so^gs of dear old friends, 

Who were left far across the sea. 
I have heard many songs with thiilling airs 

That the village band oft plays, 
But the songs for me, that touch my heart, 

Are the songs of other days. 

Chorus 



GOOD BYE NELLIE. 

Down where the woodbine is twining, 

Down where the honeysuckles bloom, 
Down where the wild-birds are singing, 

And the air's filled with perfume; 
There a soldier met his sweetheart 

And the poor girl began to cry, 
When he told her he must leave her 

And had come to say good bye. 

Chorus: — 

Good bye, Nellie, I must leave you 

For duty calls me away, 
Eut please do not let that grieve you 

I'll come back to you some day. 
When this cruel war is ended 

And no longer the cannons roar, 
'Neath the flag I have defended, 

I'll return to you once more. 

Way down on the field of battle, 

Where amid the shot and shell, 
You could see the colors flying, 

When they wavered, stopped and fell; 
Then forward there rushes a trooper 

To the place where the colors lay — 
And he carried the flag to vict'ry 

Now he never more will say. 

'Chorus. 



►♦ 



♦ 






YOU KISSED ME IN MY DREAM. 



THE GOOD OLD WINTER TIME. 



— ♦ 



'Tis sweet to see the old, old home 

You knew in days of yore, 
'Tis sweet to greet the friends of youth 

And cl'asp their hand once more, 
'Tis sweet to hear a mother sing 

Whatever be her theme; 
But to me there's no bliss 
To compare with the kiss 

You gave me in my dream., 

Chorus:— 

For you kissed me in my dream last night, 

You kissed me in my dream, 
It filled my heart with ecstacy, 

To see the love light gleam 
Within the eyes, I'll always prize 

As I hope my soul to redeem; 
For I knew that you was to me true 

When you kissed me in my dream. 

'Tis sweet to wander 'mong the flowers 

On balmy summer days; 
'Tis sweet to hear the little birds 

Pour forth their notes of praise; 
"Ti= sweet to sit 'n a shady nook 

Down by the old mill stream; 
But to me there's no bliss 
To compare with the kiss 

You gave me in my dream. < 

Chorus. 



'Tis tbe time of the year I very much fear 

Good okl winter time; 
For the coughs and the sneezes are caused by the 
breezes, 

Good old winter time. 
Then when I get home I never will roam 
Less to a much warmer clime. 
For to me it is clear, 'tis colder each year 
The good old winter time. 

Chorus: — 

In the good old winter time, in the good old win- 
ter time, 

Sitting by a cozy fire — when the clock strikes nine 

You're ready then to go to bed, to me it's a very 
good sign 

A man should stay at home of nights in the good 
old winter time. 

You may say it is nice to slide on the ice, 

Good old winter time; 
But you are a liar: you'll sit by the fire 
Good old winter time. 
For I know it at last by winter's cold blast 
This life's no beautiful rhyme, 
For I'm coughing and sneezing, my feet's 
nearly freezing — 

The good old winter time. 

Chorus. 






<j> 






o 



MY SWEETHEART'S OLD LETTERS. 

I was starching through some rubbish 

To see what I would find; 
When I came upon a letter 

From an old sweetheart of mine. 
It was faded, torn and tattered, 

And covered o'er with mould. 
But the story that I read there 

Was the one that ne'er grows old. 

Chorus:— 

"Tw.is a letter from my sweetheart, 
My lost love of long ago, 

Whose face T see oft in my dreaming, 
Whose bonnie eyes of blue 
Were so tender, kind and true, 

In which the love light was gleaming. 

What fond memories it awiakens 

V I read again those lines. 
When we both were pay and happy 

As we wandered 'neath the pines. 
But I never will forget her 

* Ion ; as life shall la-r ■ 
This letter from my sweetheart 

Still binds me to the past. 

Chorus 



THOSE OLD CARPET SLIPPERS. 

The home of my childhood how sad to remember. 

I never can sec the old place any more, 
But as long as I live, will always remember, 

Those old carpet slippers my dear mother wore. 

They were faded and worn and all full of stitches 
But. oh! I remember they made one feel sore, 

As they played a rat tat on the seat of my breeches. 
Those old carpet slippers my dear mother wore. 

And often at eve when returned from the swim- 
ming. 

I would always slip up to the back kitchen door. 
To try and get in without getting a trimming 

From those carpet slippers my dear mother wore. 

I've wandered all over this wide world of sorrow. 

And often would think of those old days of yore 

And it maybe that sometimes I trouble would 

borrow. 

As I thought of those slippers my dear mother 

■woie. 



But now she is gone to the angels — God' bless her, 
And now I have nothing to fear from that score, 

But as long as I live I'll cherish those slippers. 
Those old carpet slippers my dear mother wore. 



I 



PORK AND BEANS. 

You may talk about your hominy, 

But I want none in mine. 
Your 'taters sweet and 'possum; meat 

I'll grant, that they are fine, 
And you in the joyous springtime 

Can have your mustard greens; 
But none of these can e'er compare 

With good old pork and beans. 



Chorus :- 



Good old pork and beans, 

We had down on the farm, 
Good old pork and beans, 

For me still has a charm. 
For when I'm very hungry 

Yes, hungry as can be 
A good old mess of pork and beans 

Is just the thing for me. 

I've traveled many weary miles 

O'er mountains and o'er streams 
I've traveled with our president 

(At least I have in dieams) 
I've traveled from Chicago 

Way down to New Orleans, 
But it always made me homesick 

To think of pork and beans. 



-Chorus. 






I often think of other days 

That are forever gone, 
I believe they were the brightest 

The sun has e'er shown on. 
I often long to see once more 

Those happy childhood scenes; 
My mouth hegins to water when 

I think of pork and beans. 

Chorus. 



A FICKLE SWEETHEART. 

I loved that girl sincerely, 
I loved her good and true, 

She fell in love with another man 
So what was I to do? 

The last time that I saw her 
She told me we must part, 

I told her I didn't care a "cuss" 
Though it almost broke my heart. 

For we'd been friends together 

For lo, these many years; 
We'd traveled down the trail of life 

Through this vale of tears. 

So when my days are over, 

Should we meet on earth no more, 
I hope to meet that girl I loved 

When I reach that golden shore. 



♦ 






TAKE CARE, TAKE CARE. 



In early life 

'Fore I knew strife 
Or felt the touch of care, 

Ev'ry morning 

I'd get warning 
When mother said, "take care, take care." 
When mother said, "take care." 



As I grew old 

T got more bold 
And soon I learned to swear; 

When father heard 

Me &wear a word. 
He said, "ray son, take care, take care." 
Me said, "my son, take care." 

When in my teens. 

I wore blue jeans, 
For girls I did not care 

And would them tease; 

Some said "don't please" 
And others said, "take care, take caire. ! 
And others said, "take care." 



And when at last 

Tho' years had passed 
I fell in cupid's snare; 

My wife will say 

'Bout every day, 
"Of the baby you take care,, take care" 
"Of the baby you take care." 

I went one night 

When I felt right 
To church down on the square; 

The preacher said, 

"You'll soon be dead 
If you do not take care, take care." 
"If j'ou do not take care." 

So when I die 

And go on high 
To regions bright and fair; 

St. Peter then 

Will sa>y again, 
"Why did not you take care, take care." 
"Why did you not take care." 

Then I must go 

Way down below 
Where they have heat to spare; 

Old Satan may 

To me then say 
"I guess you best stay there, ah there." 
"Get in there and stay there." 






♦- 



II 



I'M SIGHING FOR SOME ONE TO LOVE ME. 



As I strolled out one evening, 

In the quiet twilight's gloom, 
When the field and orchard blossoms 

Filled the air with sweet perfume; 
I saw a maiden passing. 

Just over 'cross the way, 
And as I listened closely 

I heard her sing this lay: 



YES I'LL LOVE YOU WHEN YOU'RE OLD. 



When the evening dews were falling, 

When the stars begin to snine, 
Down the Lover's Lane I wandered 

With my sweetheart's hand in mine; 
When we reached the rustic arbor, 

That sweet story then was told; 
She whispered "yes" then to me said, 

"Will you love me when I'm old?" 



Chorus: — 

I'm sighing for some one to love me, 

I'm weary of living alone, 
Some one to press me, one who'll caress me, 

And call me his onliest own; 

Together in some cozy cottage, 

With one that is tender and true, 
Just to hug and to kiss — oh! 'won't that be bliss, 

'Most any nice man will do. 

Now on a summer's evening, 

While sitting by the door, 
My sweetheart sits beside me, 

As in the days of yore. 
We talk about that meeting 

Though now our hair is gray, 
For never since that evening 

Has she had cause to say: 



Chorus :- 



Yes, I'll love you when you're old, 

When your hair has turned to gray, 
Yes, I'll love you when you're old 

In the same old way. 
So do not let that grieve you, 

For 'till I have to leave you, 
Sweetheart, I'll always love you 

In the same old way. 

Long years have passed away since then, 

Have flown by like a dream, 
Yet still within my sweetheart's eyes 

I can see "loves kindling beam." 
Though I've gained no fame nor riohes — 

I have neither lands nor gold' — ■ 
She just as fair to me today 

Though she now is growing old. 



-Chorus.- 



-Chorus.- 



THE MUSIC OF THE OLD VILLAGE BELLS. 



Upon a summer's e'en-, I returned to the scene, 

Where I'd spent many happy, nappy hours, 
There's none left to greet me, upon the village 
green 
Where I played when a child among the flowers. 
The school house on the hill, is standing up there 
still, 
The birds are singing gaily in the dells, 
Bii\ \e years had been long since I had strolled 
along, 
To the music of the old village bells. 



Chorus: — 

The old village bells, whose melody swells 

In the evening over the lea, 
And whose soothing chimes, recall happy times, 

Spent with friends that were so dear to me, 
My heart's full of love for those gone above, 

A sigh from my bosom now wells — 
I'm longing in truth, for friends of my youth, 

As I list to the old village bells. 



As I stroll down the street — to my mem'ry so 
sweet, 
All the faces that I met were so strange, 
'Till I met an old man, whom I took by the hand, 

And I asked him the causes of the change. 
Then the old man so gray, from his eye wipes 
away, 
A tear when he the story sadly tells, 
With many words of praise for friends of other 
days, 
To the music of the old village bells. 



-Chorus.- 



When the story was done, at the set of the sun, 

I was feeling so unhappy and lone. 
The friends of other days, bad long since passed 
away, 

But no longer their loss I will bemoan. 
If when I'm cold and still, I can rest by the rill, 

That flows so gently through the shady dells. 
If at the close of day, I may be laid away 

To the music of the old village bells. 



-Chorus- 



♦ 



» 









THE FARM BOYS' LONGING. 

A farmer boy in the meadow was mowing, 

On a hot sultry morning in June, 
The gentle cows on the hillside were lowing, 

When he stopped with himself to commune. 
But the sun kept getting hotter and hotter, 

To the boy's eye there now comes a tear, 
As he says: "I'm so weary of this water, 

And I long for some Budweiser Beer. 



Chorus: — 



Oh, if ever I get to be "flush," 

I will leave this old place in a rush, 
For I know it is nice, to drink beer cold as ice 

When it's made by Anheuser and Busch. 
If I only was in with the "push," 

I would sing just as gay as a thrush, 
For to me it is clear, if you want the best beer 

You will have to drink Anheuser-Busch. 

It's a long, long way I know to the city, 

If I just had the money I'd go, 
To have to always stay here is a pity, 

For this life in the country's so slow. 
Of course I will have to leave the old home- 
stead, 

And the friends that to me are so dear, 
But I've stayed around here, now till I'm half 
dead, 

With a longing for Blue Ribbon Beer . 



Chorus: — 

Oh, the Blue Ribbon beer, to me it is clear, 

It's the best that has ever been brewed, 
And I really think, if I just had a drink, 

I would be in a happier mood. 
Yes I'd be as gay as ia skylark in May 

As he pours forth his loud notes of cheer 
Then take my advice, if you want something 
nice 

Drink a bottle of Blue Ribbon Beer. 



& 



SUBSIDIZING. 



They've subsidized the railroads, 

They've subsidized the press, 
The legislature's subsidized, 

The governor, too, I guess. 
They even tried to subsidize 

The ships that sail the sea 
But in their subsidizing schemes 

They've left out you and me. 









IT IS NOT BECAUSE YOU'RE PRETTY. 


MY PEARL, MY HONEY GIRL. 


Said a lady to her lover, 


On a summer's night 


As they wandered through the clover, 


When the nwsen shines bright, 


When the moon was shining brightly in the sky, 


And the air seems filled with fairies; 


"You have often said you'd love me 
While the stars were shining 'bove me 


To some pretty miss 


You'll be saying this 


But you never yet have told the reason why." 


While strolling o'er the praries. 


Chorus: — 


Chorus: — 


"It is not because you're pretty, 


Oh, my Pearl, my honey girl, 


It is not because you're witty, 


I can not do without you, 


It is not because you have a revenue, 
Not because you sing so sweetly, 


In my brain there is a pain 


Caused by thanking 'bout you. 


Not because you dress so neatly, 


Wont you say, you'll name the day 


It is just because I know your heart is true." 


I may fold my arms about you; 




For my Pearl, my honey girl, 




I can not do without you. 


Said the lover to his lady, 

Down there in that nook so shady, 




And where all the world seemed free from care 


Then in after years 


and strife, 


Through a mist of tears 
When sad, sad thoughts pursue you; 


"Now I've told you o'er and o'er 


You're the one I most adore 


You in fancy then 


Will you promise that some day you'll be my 
wife?" 

■ 


Will say again 


As her sweet face comes to you. 


_ .. if* Vi ririi r* 


Chorus. 


\yiiorus. 



♦ 



— ♦ 



WHEN THE LILACS BLOOM AGAIN. 

Sweetheart, do you remember 

When the lilacs bloom again* — 
The last time that I met you 

By the old gate down the lane? 
Though I went away in anger 

And the parting gave you pain, 
Sweetheart, wont you forgive me 

When the lilacs bloom again? 



Sweetheart, do you remember 

When the lilacs bloom again — 
The one who can't forget you 

Whose love will never end; 
Who wishes now that you'd forgive 

And to him a message send. 
"Wont you come back to me, my love, 

When the lilacs bloom again?" 

C horn s — ' — 



Chorus: — 

When the lilacs bloom again 

Down in the shady dell, 
Sweetheart, wont you forgive me — 

You know I love you well. 
Tell me you still love me, 

Don't let me plead in vain, 
But say that you'll forgive me. 

When the lilacs bloom again. 

Sweetheart, do you rememlber 

When the lilacs bloom again — 
How oft we strolled together 

Adown the shady lane? 
Though those days are passed away 

And can never come again, 
Sweetheart, wont you forgave me 

When the lilacs bloom again? 

Chorus 



t& 



THEN AND NOW. 

It used to be in Auld Lang Syne 
When you sent, a girl a valentine; 

She looked for cupids, doves or larks, 
But now she looks for $ $ $. 



s> 



THE FLAG. 

'Tis a beautiful flag with its silvery stars 
And its stripes of white and of red; 

The emblem of freedom, of justice, and right, 
For which our forefathers bled. 






A CUP OF SASSAFRAS. 



The German likes his lager beer, 

I sometimes think it is fine; 
The Englishman his half and half, 

The Frenchman likes his wine; 
But to the old time Hoosier 

There's nothing can surpass 
The 'appetizing fragrance of 

A cup of sassafras. 



When winter's chilling storms are o'er 
And the frost is out the ground, 

When round about on every hand 
Harbingers of spring are found. 

You'll find that none are surer — 

You can see it as you pass — 

Piled on the grocer's counter a 
Whole lot of sassafras. 



I, in fancy, see the table 

With the family gathered round; 
I hear the clink of dishes, 

T'is to me a pleasant sound — 
But the best part of that picture 

Can come no more, alas — 
To have my mother help me 

To a cup of sassafras. 

So when my time has come to go 
To that home beyond the blue, 

Away up there beyond the stars- 
Holes for angels to peep through; 

1 know I'll not be happy 

When springtime rolls around. 

Unless I find that patch of woods 
Where the sassafras is found. 



& 



TO WESLEY. 



And now my recollection 

Takes me back to other days, 
To those glad scenes of childhood 

Which the poets always praise, 
And to me there comes a picture 

Which from mem'ry ne'er will pass 
T'is a picture of my mother 

Pouring out the sassafras. 



Oh Wesley, dear Wesley, 

How fast the time has flown. 
The harvest time will soon be here 

When we'll reap as we have sown. 
And when we reach that judgment seat 

Up there before our Lord, 
On bended knees with head bowed low, 

We'll get our last reward. 



♦ 



►♦ 



WHEN I SIT BESIDE MY MOTHER'S KNEE 
AGAIN. 

When the evening stars shine bright, 

Or the full moon's golden light, 
Call up raem'ries that are ever dear to me. 

It is then I sit and sigh, 
For the happy days gone by, 

And I wonder when my mother's face. I'll see. 
She's the one that I love best, 

And before she goes to rest, 
She prays to God in Heaven to watch o'er me. 

Oh! it makes my poor heart sad, 
And I know I'll ne'er be glad, 

'Till I sit. beside my dear old mother's knee. 

Chorus: — ■ 

My darling old mother, 

To me there's no other 
On this earth that can with her compare. 

For when I was a child 
With a word and a smile, 

She would drive away sorrow and care. 
Oh how happy I'll be. 

When her dear face I see, 
After long years of sorrow and pain. 

For to me there's no bliss, 
That can e'er equal this, 

When I sit by her knee once again. 

At the setting of the sun, 

When my daily task is done, 
There's a feeling that will often steal o'er me, 

That the time is drawing near, 



Yes, I think its almost here, 

When again my dear old mother's face I'll see. 
For the day will come at last, 

When my troubles will be past, 
What a heaven on this earth it then will be, 

For when I again get home 
No, I never more will roam, 

But will stay beside my dear old mother's 
knee. 

Chorus. 



MY BOWLING GREEN GIRL. 

Oh, away down in Bowling Green, 

Is the sweetest girl I've ever seen; 
Her eyes are blue — hair a golden hue, 

She's the prettiest girl in the world I ween. 
When I parted from her on a summer's e'en, 

She said to me with a smile serene, 
I'll be true to you, my whole life through 

And will wait for you in Bowling Green. 

When I go back to Bowling Green 

Where the skies are fair, the grass so green, 
You bet your life she'll be my wife, 

She'll be my own Kentucky queen. 
I conjure up a happy scene, 

A cot all covered with ivy green, 
Where with words of praise I'll spend my days 

With miy true love in Bowling Green. 



WHEN THE LEAVES TURN FROM GREEN TO 
RED AND GOLD. 

When the leaves begin to turn from green to red 
and gold 
And a haze obscures the scenes across the 
wold. 
There's a pain comes to my heart and I know I 
soon must part 
From the ones I love, for I am growing old — 
Though the fact may be well hidden, yet this 
thought will come unbidden, 
When the leaves begin to turn from green to 
red and gold. 

When the leaves begin to turn from green to red 

and gold, 
When nature in all her beauty I behold, 
Oh! the woods down in the glen, make a pretty 

picture then, 
Where so often with my sweetheart I have 

strolled — 
But a tear bedims my eye, as I think of days gone 

by, 
When the leaves begin to turn from green to 

red and gold. 

When the leaves begin to turn from green to red 
and geld, 
Then may [ be laid away beneath the mold 
Of the churchyard in the glade, underneath the 

oak trees' shade, 
In the evening when the village bells are tolled — 
There to rest until that morn — until Gaihiriel 
blows his horn, 
And all the leaves have turned from green to 
red and gold. 



BEAUTIFUL BONNIE BLUE-EYED NELL. 

Oh! beautiful, bonnie blue-eyed Nell 

How much I love you none can tell. 
Say you'll be mine, in a little while, 

With your form petite and winsome smile. 
In some secluded, shady spot 

I'll prepare a little cot 
Where we in peace and love can dwell; 

Won't you say yes, oh! bonnie Nell? 

Oh! beautiful, bonnie, blue-eyed Nell, 
You surely know I love you well, 

For by the stars that shine above 
. You are the only girl I love; 

I tell you truly that thou art 
The very idol of my heart; 

Your winning ways by far excel 
The other girls, Oh! bonnie Nell. 

Oh! beautiful, bonnie, blue-eyed Nell 

Rapturous scenes before me well, 
A far off isle 'neath peaceful skies 

O'er which no storm clouds ever rise. 
Where fragrant flowers perfume the air 

Aad you and I together there — 
Where we will dwell in perfect ease 

Just like the birds among the trees; 
'Tis plain to me for your eyes tell 

Your answers' yes, my bonnie Nell. 



THREE B'S. 

You will not cut much figure 

In the social atmosphere 

Without Beauty, or Boodle, or Brains. 









— ' ♦ 



JUST A DREAM OF NELLIE. 

The sweet face of an angel hovered 'round me as 
I slept, 
And in dreams I lived again those happy hours, 
Who* with my sweetheart Nellie, upon a sun> 
mers' day 
We wandered hand in hand among the flowers; 
It was then I told that story, which with telling 
ne'er grows old, 
It was then she promised she would be my 
bride; 
But by cruel fate's decree, it can never, never be, 
For the angels called my sweetheart from my 
side. 

In the little village churchyard, upon a summer's 
day, 
When the golden sun was sinking in the west, 
Underneath the old oak tree, that is standing on 
the hill, 
They laid the form of Nellie down to rest; 
My heart was buried with her, when they laid 
her 'neath the sod, 
And I wished that I was lying by her, too, 
For until we meet above, to the one I dearly love 
To my darling sweetheart Nellie I'll be true. 

It was just a dream of Nellie, that came to me 

last night, 
Just as a vision of an angel bright and fair, 
But it brought a gleam of gladness to miy poor 

aching heart, 



And it drove away my sorrow and my care; 
For she threw her arms around me and pressed 
her lips to mine, 
I, in fancy, even now feel that caress; 
If to me she had been spared, she would all my 
joys have shared 
And together lived a life of happiness. 



SUMMER'S COMING. 

Did you ever get up early 
And hear the birds a-calling, 

On a bright sunshiny morning, 
Calling out their notes of warning 

That the good old summer time 
Would soon be here? 

When you heard the birds a-calling, 
Did it seem that you were younger, 

When you felt that pleasant feeling 
Over all your system stealing, 

And you knew that summer time 
Would soon be here? 

When you heard the birds a-calling 

Did it bring a recollection 
Of those happy days of childhood 

That you spent among the wildwood 
With those playmates who are now 

No longer here? 



♦ --»■■■■■■■-»-■■■-...........,......,..... , . . a __ . . . ± 



JINGLE OF THE MONEY IN YOUR POCKET. 

When a man must work the whole day through 

He's tired at night and hungry, too, 
So he eats his supper and goes to bed. 

Soon to this world he's the same as dead. 
Eut when a pay day at last comes round, 

H*e draws his wages and goes down town, 
His spirits will rise just like a rocket 

When he feels that money in his pocket. 

Chorus: — 

When he hears that money jingling in his pocket 

It's rnusi* drives away his care, 
And for a little while, at least, he's happy — 

He feels just like a millionaire. 

Then on Sunday dressed in his best clothes, 

On his bosom wearing a big. red rose, 
And a gold-headed cane he may t>e sporting 

When he goes out among the girls a-courting. 
But Monday tells a different story, 

He is shorn of all his glory, 
Things seems to be all out of socket 

He hasn't got a dollar in his pocket. 

Chorus: — 

When he has no coin to jingle in his pocket 

It almost drives him to despair, 
But he goes to work, and he often wonders 

If he'll ever be a millionaire. 



THE FISHMONGER. 

Oh; list to the story I have to relate 

It is one you have heard if you're up-to-date 

You've heard the fishmonger as he goes along 
At the top of his voice a-singing this song: 

Chorus: — 

Don't you wish some fresh fish? 

Don't you wish some fresh fish? 

Don't you wish some fresh fish today? 

Oh, I tell you they are nice, 

For I keep them on ice. 

Don't you wish some fresh fish today? 

He is out at the very first break of the morn 
And blows a few blasts upon his old horn, 

Then he keeps on the go till the close of the day 
An all the time merrily singing away. 

Chorus. 



He teaches a lesson that we should all learn, 
And not for the riches of others to yearn: 

No matter what happens be cheerful and gay 
And like the fishmonger keep singing away. 

Chorus. 



♦ 









>♦ 



JUST FOR OLD TIMES' SAKE. 

Last night as I lay dreaming 

Of that sur;ny long ago, 
When you and I were sweethearts — 

You remember yet I know — 
There came a change of feeling 

And I then saw my mistake, 
So I'm writing you this letter, 

Just for old times' sake. 



Chorus: — 



I am writing you this letter, 

Just for old times' sake, 
Excuses for my conduct 

I will not attempt to make; 
Though I went away in anger 

And caused your heart to ache, 
I know that you'll forgive me, 

Just for old time's sake. 



I NEVER CAN FORGET MY DARLING NELL. 

In the gloaming, 
I go roaming, 
Down the valley of Wyoming 
To the home of my lost sweetheart, little Nell; 
By the little cabin door, 
She awaits for me no more, 
She has gone up where the white-robed angels 
dwell. 



In the seeming . ».._. 

Of my dreaming 
I can see the love light gleaming, 
In her eyes as in that sunny long ago, 

When together on the strand. 

We were strolling hand in hand, 
Telling tender tales of love, so sweet and low. 



You told me on that evening, 

When I went away frorm you, 
That you would always love me 

And that to me you'd be true, 
That when, if e'er, in after years, 

Fond mem'ries should awake, 
To write to you, a line or two, 

Just for old times' sake. 



Oft I'm sighing, 

Sometimes crying 
And I wish that I was lying 
By my sweetheart's side down in that shady dell. 

Though 'tis years since last we met, 

Her sweet face still haunts me yet, 
For I never can forget my darling Nell. 



-Chorus. 



AN IRISHMAN'S LAMENT. 

On the nineteenth day of January 

In eighteen ninety-four 
I left the town of Tipperary, 

To come to the American shore. 



I got a job as a policeman. 
But I don't like that anymore; 

I'm going back to Tipperary 
And leave the American shore. 



So when I get there, I will stay there, 

And I never more will roam, 
For I know now however humble 

There is no place to me like home. 

And when again I see those dear ones 
And tread the "old green sod,*' 

On bended knees, by the great St. Patrick, 
I'll return my thanks to God. 

So when I wave this old shelalah, 

I mean just what I say; 
I am going back to Tipperary 

For I cannot stay away. 



GOLDEN HAIR. 

Oh, once I knew a maiden fair 
With azure eyes and golden hair, 

The sweetest thing found any where, 
For none with ber could e'er compare. 

Upon a d'ay when perfumes rare 
Were floating round us everywhere; 

I said unto my Lady Clare 

We two 'would make a brilliant pair. 

She said to me, with stony stare, 

You've got your nerve, I do declare. 

Then I went straight up in the air 
'Twas enough to make a fellow swear, 

When the girl he loved would even dare 
To give him a lemon then and there, 

Where everything was bright and fair 
And almost drive him to despair. 

When I see girls with golden hair, 
You bet of them I will beware, 

And never get caught in their snare, 
For they are false as well as fair. 






THAT SUNNY LAND OF KANSAS, FAR AWAY. 

I have traveled from New York to California, 

I have trod upon old Afric's burning sand, 
I have roamed among the green fields of old Eng- 
land 

And have strolled upon far India's coral strand; 
I have wandered 'neath the sunny skies of Italy, 

Where at night I gazed upon its milky way; 
But to me there is no other land like Kansas 

Like that sunny land of Kansas, far away. 

In my dreaming I can see a little cottage 

With the sunflowers blooming close beside the 
door, 
And at evening when the golden sun is setting 

I can see the sunbeams playing on the floor. 
I, in fancy, now can see that dear old mother, 

By whose knee long years ago I knelt to pray 
And tonight my heart is longing to be with her 

In that sunny land of Kansas, far away. 

It was there I knew a charming little maiden 

Who had golden hair and eyes of bonnie blue; 
When we parted by the river in the gloaming 

She told me that to me she would be true, 
Though I went away and left her sad and lonely 

When the fields were covered o'er with blooms 
of May. 
That's why tonight my thoughts are fondly turn- 
ing 

To that sunny land of Kansas, far away. 



Oh, I long to see that sunny land of Kansas, 

And to roam again its valleys and its hills, 
Where at evening cross the flower-sented prairies 

I could hear the calling of the whippoorwills, 
It was there I spent the happy days of child- 
hood 

Back to which my mem'ry now wiill often stray; 
So tonight my heart is filled with tender longings 

For that sunny land of Kansas, far away. 



PARTED. 



W T hen I think of our last meeting 

A sad tear comes to my eye, 
For you told mie you must leave me 

And had come to say goodbye. 
Now you're gone, perhaps forever, 

But I never will forget 
How yon told me you'd still love, 

Tho' our star of hope had set. 

As we, parted on that evening 

When the grass was wet with dew, 
By the stars that smiled above us, 

You then told me you'd be true. 
But the days are long with waiting, 

And my heart is filled with pain. 
For it seems to me that never 

Shall I see your face again. 



►♦ 



♦ 






♦- 



-♦ 



YES I'D CARE IF YOU SHOULD LEAVE ME. 



GOOD BYE ANNABELLE. 



When upon a summer's evening 

As we wandered down the lane, 
And the stars were shining brightly 

It was then you caused nie pain; 
For it seemed as if you doubted 

That to you I was true, 
When you asked if you should leave me 

Would I always care for you. 



A soldier and his sweetheart, 

Upon a summer's day, 
Were waiting for the time to come 

When he would march away. 
He whispered though I leave you 

I will always love you well. 
But duty calls and I must go, 

So good bye, Annabelle. 



Chorus: — 

Yes, I'd care, if you should leave me, 

Yes, I'd care, if we should part, 
Yes, I'd care, should you deceive me; 

It would almost break my heart. 
For you know I love you truly, 

I.ove you mote than lips can tell; 
Come to me, then we together 

Evermore in peace shall dwell. 



Chorus: — 



Fare you well, my Annabelle, 

I'm going far away, 
If your heart is true to your boy in blue 

Wherever I may stray — 
My heart will yearn 'til I return 

To the one I love so well. 
For none to me can ever be 

So fair as Annabelle. 



As we parted on that evening, 

When we bid our last adieu, 
By the stars that shone above us, 

You then told me you'd be true. 
Now you're gone, perhaps forever, 

But to you, I'll be true; 
Though the days seem long with waiting 

I will always care for you. 



While doing picket duty 

On a cold and stormy night, 
The enemy surprised him — 

He was found at morning's light. 
When comrades bent to listen 

To the story he might tell; 
He only said, I'm going now, 

So good bye, Annabelle. 



-Chorus- 



-Chorus- 



p » m ^ m m ^*-^-^~**^^ 



I WANT TO SEE THE OLD HOME AGAIN. 



AN OLD FAMILIAR STRAIN. 



Though I'm getting old and gray, John, . 

I know your love's as true, 
As when upon that happy day 

I gave my hand to you. 
Put oft I'm ?ad at heart, John, 

That fact I can't deny, 
And oft I long once more to see 

My old home 'fere I die. 



Could mother sing me that old song 

She sang long years ago, 
When I was just a little child 

Beside her knee you know; 
*T would soothe this aching heart of mine 

Which through long years of pain, 
Has often longed to hear her sing 

That old familiar strain. 



Chorus: — 

I want to go back to the old home once more 
Where I passed my life's happiest hours. 

Where a happy young bride, I s>at by your side 
Sut rounded by sweet blooming flowers. 

Though long years have passed since I left 
the old place 
Far away among strangers to roam. 

That dear little cot will ne'er be forgot, 

For 'twill always be home, sweet home. 



Chorus: — 

Nearer, my God to thee 

Nearer to thee. 
E'en though it be a cress 

That raiseth me. 
Yet in my dreams I'd be 

Nearer, my God, to thee, 
Nearer, my God, to thee, 

Nearer to thee. 



The grass is growing green, dear John, 

Above the little mound 
Where we laid our darling Mary 

'Till the angels trumpets round. 
Though other friends may have a claim, 

That is the sweetest tie; 
So lay me there beside her, John, 

When my time comes to die. 



The miser loves his shining gsld 

And all his hoarded store, 
No doubt it gives him pleasure when 

He counts it o'er and o'er. 
But, all my riches I would give 

And all my worldly gain. 
To hear once more my mother sing 

That old familiar strain. 



-♦ 



-Chorus- 



-Chorus.- 



HERE AND HEREAFTER. 

Though 'tis a sad story I have to relate, 
It is one that is told, either soon or late, 
For age is beginning to furrow my brow 
('Tis a decree of fate to which all must bow.) 
And my form feds the chill of winter's cold blast. 
It makes me feel sad when I think of the past. 
Though I know it is true what someone has said 
"The heart casts a glamour o'er days that are 

dead." 
Old Time is rolling along -with his years 
And has nothing for me but toil and tears. 
Willi affairs of this life I have been so engrossed, 
I've given no thought to the Holy Ghost, 
And what is to come in the Great Hereafter — 
Whether sorrow and tears or music and laughter. 
But why should I murmur or why should I moan, 
For I know I must reap just like I have sown, 
And whatever for me the Lord has in store 
I'll find when I reach that golden shore. 
When the thread of my life shall snap in time's 

loom 
Before I am laid in the cold silent tomib 
I want you to come, gaze a while on my bier, 
But wipe from your eyes every trace of a tear, 
And say, "Old Man. all your troubles are past, 
You fought a good fight, but lost at last, 
And now you have gone before your Lord 
On bended knees to receive your reward — 
Your faults we'll forget and your virtues extol 
And ask God to have mercy upon your soul. 
For you did your duty the best you knew how 
Though it brought no laurel wreaths to your brow. 
And while your loss, brother, we deeply deplore, 



And the haunts which once knew you will know; 

you no more. 
So long as we stay on this earthly scene 
We'll cherish your mem'ry and keep your grave 

green." 
So I'm only waiting for the boatman pale 
(For I know I'm nearing the end of the trail) 
To carry me over the dark river Styx 
And then I'll be in a de'il of a fix, 
For I'll find that an angel of God on high 
Had kept me ever under his watchful eye, 
And had written down in that book of gold 
All sins I'd committed, all fibs I had told. 
When I ask to see the credit of the book, 
He'll say nothing there, no use to look; 
You will have to go to the region below 
To the place where they never have any snow. 
Then down I'll go to the realms of the devil 
To spencl my time in a fiery revel. 

Perhaps you may say I should he a preacher, 
But you also know I'm too sinful a creature; 
For a preacher you know should be without sin. 
But 'twill be a tight squeeze for some to get in 
Through those bright, pearly gates which stand 

ajar. 
If ever I view them, it will be from afar, 
For I have concluded, it may be a dream, 
To just jog along and not try a new scheme 
To gain me a residence on that golden street, 
Where beautiful angels with crown so neat 
Upon their heads, and with harps in their hands 
Are making more music than four circus bands, 
When they go on parade in some country town 
Where the "reubens' are gathered for miles 
around. 









Yes, I'm coming back to you, love, 
Back to you I love so well, 

But just when the day will be, love, 
I can never, never tell. 



TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME SWEET- 
HEART. 

Tell me that you love me sweetheart, 

Tell me that you love me well; 
Though I went away and left you, 

Left you there alone to dwell. 
But I'm coming back to you, love, 

Back to you I love so well, 
But just when the day will he, love, 

I can never, never tell. 

Tell me that you love me, sweetheart, 

Whisper it so soft and low, 
It will cheer me in my trouble, 

It will drive away my woe. 
For, I'm coming back to you, love, 

Back to you I love so well; 
But just when the day will be, love, 

I can never, never tell. 

In the evening, oh! my darling, 

Think not bitterly of me. 
For when I return to you, love, 

We'll be happy as can be. 
Yes, I'm coming back to you, love, 

Back to you I love so well; 
But just when the day will be, love, 

I can never, never tell. 

I'm so lonely without you, love, 

And it makes me sad to wait, 
I want to feel your arms around me 

With "a smack across the gate." 






DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? 

A man and a maid 

Down in the glade 
Under a wide spreading tree; 

Said man to the maid, 

Down there in the shade, 
I wish that my bride you would be. 

Chorus: — 

For don't you understand, 

That when I squeeze your hand 
And gaze into your eyes of blue; 

That till I'm old and gray, 

Forever and a day, 
To you I will always be true. 

Then the maid replied, 

I will be your bride, 
And she slyly took his hand, 

But it seems so queer 

That you are, my dear, 
So hard to make understand. 

'Chorus. . 



WHEN THE LEAVES BEGIN TO FALL. 



ON THE PRAIRIES OF NEBRASKA. 



A soldier and a maiden fair 

Upon a summer's day, 
Were strolling slowly hand in hand 

A-down a wooded way. 
He told her he must leave ho-r 

When he heard the bugle's call, 
But promised he'd come back again 

When the leaves begin to fall. 



On the prairies of Nebraska 

Stands a little cottage home, 
Where I spent the days of childhood, 

Rack to which my thoughts oft roam. 
There my dear old mother's waiting 

And at night for me she'll pray, 
For she loves me just as fondly, 

Though I'm roaming far away. 



Chorus :- 



When the leaves begin to fall, 
When the leaves begin to fall, 
I will come back to you 
The sweetest girl of all. 
So do not let that grieve you, 
For tho' I have to leave you, 
I will return again 
When the leaves begin to fall. 



Chorus: — 

On the prairies of Nebraska, 

When in spring the flowers bloom, 
All the air is filled with fragrance 

With a rich and rare perfume — 
When the moon, with golden glory, 

Makes the night as bright as day; 
Then with friends I loved to ramble 

O'er the prairies far away. 



He asked her if she loved him, 

If to him she'd be true; 
She promised she'd be faithful 

To her soldier boy in blue, 
Wherever he might wander 

Hor heart would for him yearn; 
And when the leaves begun to fall 

She knew that he'd return. 



Round that old Nebraska homestead 

Hangs a halo bright as gold. 
Though my heart is tilled with sadnes3 

And the tears flow uncontrolled; 
Wlhen alone I sit at evening 

Thinking of that fair bright day 
When I left my home and loved ones 

In Nebraska far away. 



-Chorus- 



-Chorus- 









DRINK OR SMELL. 

There was a time, my dear old friend, 

I rememiber it quite well 
When we sat down upon the grass 

To play for drink or smell. 

How often have we fishing gone 

To the creek down in the dell, 
To pass the time twixt bites, you know, 

We played for drink or smell. 

Sometimes we played the game called craps 

High five, seven up or sell, 
But we only had one aim in view — 

One drink and the other smell. 

We went or. Sunday to a place 

Just where I need net tell; 
I held three jacks and a pair of kings 

And drank and let you smell. 

Those happy days are forever gone, 

And many a funeral knell 
Have we heard tolled o'er one whose hopes 

Were to drink and not to smell. 

'Twas ever thus in the game of life, 

If you e'er hope to excel, 
You must laiways hold out a pat hand 

And drink but never smell. 

So when our days on earth are o'er, 

If we should go to — well 
Old Satan then will stack the cards 

And drink and let us smell. 



TIME ALL WOUNDS DOTH HEAL. 

Oh, say that you'll be miine, love, 
And maks me happy feel; 

For well do you remember, love, 
That time all wounds doth heal. 

Speak only just a word, love, 

Do let your lips unseal; 
For well do you iemember, love, 

That time all wounds doth heal. 

Oh, do not look so cold, love, 
'Twill make my blood congeal: 

For well do you rememiber, love, 
That time all wounds doth heal. 

Be sure and not say "no," love, 

If "no" my brain will reel; 
For well do you rememiber, love, 
That time all wounds doth heal. 

I know that you'll f,ay yes, love, 
Bright visions 'fore me steal; 

For well do you remember, love, 
That time all wounds doth heal. 

Oh, corne and kiss me sweet, love, 
My own for woe or weal, 

For well do you rememiber, love, 
That time all wounds doth heal. 

Then happy we v. i'l be, love. 

When you our "taters" peel; 
For well do yon rememiber, love, 

That time all wounds doth heal. 



I 
ii 

\ 
J 



(£,> «*" j ***»'i' 



Mb 16 1907 






— ♦ 



LIMERICKS. 



There was once a young lady named Rose 
Who had a great many beaux; 

And now it is said 

She is going to wed 
The very first one who'll propose. 

There was once a young lady named (Ellen 
Who thought she's some pumpkins at spellin'; 

When put to the test 

She was not of the best 
For she left out one "1" in Llewellyn. 

There was once a young fellow named Sam 
Who appeared to be meek as a lamb. 

They say he don't siwear 

But I really declare 
I believe I have heard him say dam. 

There was once a young fellow named Dick 
Who thought he was almighty slick; 

But 'tween you and I 

He drinks on the sly; 
He ought to be soaked with a brick. 

There was once a young fellow named Tug 
He was such an innocent mug; 

He was out one night 

Until broad day light; 
No he didn't drink — out of a jug. 

There was once a young fellow named Milo 
A wise guy from Ho llo; 

You'll think from his speech 

That he was a peach. 
But I tell you he wasn't ace high though. 



There was once a young fellow named Ollie, ^ 
Fell in love with a girl named Polly; 

When he asked her to wed 

She looke up and said, 
"You're to short of boodle, by golly." 

There was once a young lady named Kate 
Met her lover down by the gate; 

She said "goodness knows 

If he doesn't propose 
The performance I'll not duplicate." 

There was once a young fellow named Charley 
Drank the juice of some corn and barley; 

It went to his head. 

He staggered and said 
Its hard to walk per-pen-dic-u-lar-ly. 

There was once a young fellow named Sloan, 
Who a crop of wild oats had sown; 

When he gets on high 

To St. Peter he'll cry— 
"I'm from Missouri; I'll have to t>e shown." 

There was once a young lady named Chloe 
Who always was on the go: 

She'd get on her bike 

And the. way she'd hike 
Was anything else but slow. 

There was once a young lady named Mairy, 
And she had a lover named Harry; 

They'd quarrel and fight 

From morning till night 
They both were so infernal contrary. 









